Play Your Part
by Jena Rink
Summary: The world is but a stage, and all of us, merely players. But what happens when you work so hard to keep up a façade, and don’t realize the effects? Tony/Ziva...angsty Season 7 During and Post Truth or Consequences. Rating changed to M.
1. Prologue

**Play your Part**

**Jena Rink**

**Disclaim- Jena does not own any of the fandoms she writes for! She wishes she was a TV writer, but this is the second best thing. NCIS does NOT belong to me…nor does the dialogue from the first half of this post. When it starts to stray from cannon, the plot is MINE. (that means don't steal my idea…hahaha)…I just woke up and had this idea. Literally jotted it down in about five minutes. It's pretty easy to understand. **

**Characters- Tony, Ziva, McGee, Gibbs, Dunham, Abby, Ducky, and the usual**

**Ships- Tiva, maybe McAbby eventually....we'll see. **

**Spoilers- Up until about the 40-minute mark of Truth or Consequences in Season 7 **

**Italics indicate the past. Bold Italics indicate thoughts. The present in this story will be in regular script. Thanks. Enjoy! Please review! **

**The first part is Tony…The second part is Ziva…**

**Fifteen story favorites isnt going to make me update this. I live for actual feedback.... (ahem)**

_ Play Your Part_

_ Prologue_

_ "One Short"_

**The world is but a stage, and all of us, merely players. But what happens when you work so hard to keep up a façade, and don't realize the effects? What goes wrong? At what point do you realize that everything you've been trying to hide was maybe for the best, and that you were only hurting yourself? It usually doesn't happen until it's too late….**

He was coughing up blood again. He was fairly certain that whatever had just happened, wasn't good. One minute he was staring hungrily into Ziva's eyes, as if he'd been empty for the past five months, and now…something was definitely wrong.

So he tried to remember. What the hell was going on? And why was he in the back of a van? This wasn't one of their cars…what had happened?

"_So…how was your summer?" he'd breathed, unable to say anything else. He was afraid, for the first time in his life, that his rambling would get him into too much trouble. Because he knew the plan. Because he didn't want Ziva to know exactly what had went down while she was in Somalia. That he'd barely slept. That he blamed himself for this more than he'd ever thought possible. And on the other side of it. She'd looked hollow. Empty, devoid of even the fire that had been in her eyes when she'd almost killed Tony in Israel. And he wasn't sure what she'd say when she opened her mouth. _

"_Out of everyone…"she trailed off for a minute, and he realized she wasn't looking in his eyes. She was still angry, although her eyes showed nothing. She also looked thirsty. Maybe he could get McGee to grab the extra CaffPow that was sitting against the wall in Saleem's container," In the world that could have found me…it had to be you…"she finally glanced up again, and he saw a hint of emotion on her face. He doubted she was aware that she was making this sound exactly like a movie. That was nice…. a hint of the friendship they had shared before. _

_Everything was blurry still. He had to focus on her face. It was the only thing he could see clearly. _

"_You're welcome," he managed softly, "So, are you glad to see me?" he had to test the waters. See if she still hated him as much as it appeared. Because he wasn't sure anymore. She hadn't believed him about Rifkin, why would she start now? _

"_You should not have come," she said softly, shaking her head, and he bit the inside of his cheek so he wouldn't tell her why they had. So instead he said something else. _

"_Alright then, I'll be going," he said simply, and her eyes narrowed. Why did he have to joke at a time like this, he was sure she was thinking that. He tried to stand up, and the chair almost fell over. He'd been injected with more of this insane truth serum/hallucinogen than he initially thought," Whoops, I forgot," he deadpanned," Taken prisoner…" She stared at him in aggravation. There. There was that hint of emotion he loved seeing on her face. But what was the other? _

_And then she asked about McGee. Although her eyes had started portraying more emotions, she barely moved her head to speak, instead choosing to stare at Tony in a way he didn't understand. She hadn't used that look before. _

"_You thought I was dead?" she managed, her voice normal, but her body language not. _

_**Oh yes, Ziva. I thought you were dead. Life had no meaning. I had no idea what the hell I was missing until you didn't get on that plane and disappeared off the grid. Nothing made sense. And when I found out you were dead, I had to do something. I had to. Because saying that you had died just didn't make sense….Yeah. Sure. She'd understand that one.**_

_So he clenched his teeth, and only said what was necessary, even though his head was pounding, and some part of him wanted to tell her the truth. _

"_Oh, Oh, yeah," he said slowly, tilting his head to the side and staring at the ceiling so he wouldn't have to look at her. But she was always good at asking the questions. _

"_Then why are you here?" she breathed, and he continued to stare past her instead of at her. Her eyes would make him break. _

"_Well…McGee…he didn't think you were dead," Tony said, almost gnawing on his lip so he wouldn't say what he actually felt. This, sucked. The carefully crafted structure of how Tony dealt with women was melted away. He dimly thought that if any one of his bimbo dates from the past had given him some of this…he'd be dead. But this wasn't about that. _

"_Tony-" she persisted, staring at him, and he swallowed. He loved the way she said his name. Kind of reminded him of Tony and Maria in West Side Story. That would make sense, because they were doomed too. And there had been an attraction from the start, from the minute she had strolled into NCIS as if she owned the place and teased him about phone sex. Damnit. He had to concentrate," Why are you here?" she finished, and the desperate façade he'd been attempting to keep up, slipped. _

"_Couldn't live without you, I guess…"he finally said quietly, still trying to fight the rest of his confession. _

"_So you will die with me?" she responded, aggravated, and Tony squinted at her," You should have left me alone…" Was she crazy? She may have hated him for what he had done, but he could have never left her here, even if all they had found was a skeleton. It wasn't fair. _

"_Tried, couldn't…"he spat out the words, and stared at the ceiling, so angry with himself for letting his emotions show," Listen, you should know that I've taken some kind of truth serum…so if there are any questions that you don't want to know the answer too…just-" _

"_I did not ask for anyone to put themselves in harm's way for me, I do not deserve it," It seemed like neither of them could look at each other._

_And then Tony realized that this would probably be a key scene in Tommy and Lisa's lives. This was ridiculous. McGee would dramatize it…and have enough money to pay for Kibble for Jethero and more personal training sessions when they got out of here. If they got out of here. He was mad, and trying to mask his anger. Why the hell could she not manage to be grateful? _

_He finally lifted his head to stare at her, and just let the words flow from his lips. So much for masking them. _

"_So what are you doing out here? Some kind of monastic experience? Penance?" he asked, unable to help himself, and she swallowed thickly. _

"_It is justified," she breathed, her eyes saying more than her lips, staring at him solemnly. He couldn't tell exactly what she felt she needed to do penance for, but the truth serum filled part of his brain wanted it to be what had happened to him. _

"_Get over yourself," he said quietly, and her eyes hardened. _

"_I have," she responded bitterly, a ghost of a smile on her lips," Now you tell Saleem everything he wants to hear, and you try to save yourselves. I am ready to die," she said, and they both jumped at the sound of Tim's voice. Tony had forgotten he was there for a second. And she wasn't dying. If it came down to it, Tony would just…stay. But he wasn't going to lose her again. Not like this. _

"_That's not how it works," Tim mumbled, and Tony internally applauded Tim for his timing. _

"_How…what works?" Ziva questioned, confused. _

"_The plan," Tony said quietly, staring at her to gage her reaction. _

_And then all hell had broken loose. The doors had flown open before they could make the signal, and they had untied Tony, who really didn't have the strength to do anything about it at that point. So he just stared at Ziva, who refused to look at it. This was incredibly fitting. He'd die without knowing whether or not she'd ever cared about him to the extent he cared about her. Why wouldn't she just let the façade drop? They'd had this argument before, when one of them was not in the mood to care, and the other was. Surely this was the moment where it didn't matter, wasn't it? _

"_Timmy, get her out of here," Tony had said in Pig Latin, despite the situation. If this hadn't had been life or death, Ziva would have laughed. Take it to Tony to use pig latin. Tim hadn't moved or acknowledged he'd even heard Tony, but Tony knew that he had. And Ziva said nothing, still. They were obviously moving out. And Tony was obviously coming with them. But why he was, she wasn't sure. And then gunshots erupted. Saleem wasn't dead. That...was unfortunate. But they'd gained one that was alive. He only hoped they could make it out of there. _

"_Tony!" McGee said, attempting to sit up, and receiving a shoe boot in the face. Well that was stupid of McGoo, he should not have done that. The damage was done though. He heard Ziva's sharp intake of breath at Tim's moan of pain, and closed his eyes tightly for a moment. _

"_So glad we got to chat!" he said bitterly to Ziva, as they yanked him out the door. He didn't hear her start to cry. He was pissed, too angry to care. What was the point of this anymore? _

"_You know more than you're letting on, Agent Dinozzo. And I'm going to find out exactly what that is," Saleem said in his ear, his breath reeking of fruit juice, sprite and an abundance of caffeine. They threw him in the back of a car, closing the trunk on him, and then they were off, Tony losing consciousness seconds later. _

* * *

Ziva was still staring in shock at the chair where Tony had used to be. Maybe she'd been hallucinating again. She'd smelt him, though. The room smelled like that god-awful cologne he'd worn sometimes, although faint. And then she felt hands on her shoulders. She jumped, and her stomach convulsed violently. She needed water. She needed sleep. She needed…Tony. Why the hell had she not said anything?

"Ziva," it was Tim. She relaxed slightly, until she realized that if he was here, it all was real. They'd taken Tony? Her stomach clenched again, and she tasted salt on her lips. Was she crying? She must be. Her body was shaking, his last words stinging her to the core, her heart pounding in her chest. Was it even worth it to ask?

"Where is Tony?" she murmured weakly, and Tim's silence was enough of an answer.

"I told him I'd get you out of here," he whispered in her ear, the sounds of gunfire assaulting their ears. It appeared that Tim had taken out a guard as he helped her to her feat. She struggled against him, her eyes flying back to Tony's empty chair.

"No…"she managed softly, her eyes meeting his.

Tim vaguely realized that neither of them had ever been in a situation where it was prudent to tell each other how they really felt. He was fairly certain that to Tony, Ziva screwing up an American phrase was kind of a turn on, and that she, while berating him for quoting movies too often, secretly craved that daily interaction. And yet, they wore their masks, in some warped kind of Shakespearean way, keeping each other at arm's length because they thought it was for the best. But right now, McGee had to concentrate. He knew that Tony loved her. And if he was going to die, then they had to get out of there.

"We have to get out of here," he told her, lifting her into his arms, handing the gun he had procured to her. She held the Sig at the ready, and realized it was Tony's. They must have taken their weapons when they captured them. The metal felt familiar in her hand, and she almost lost it when she realized that it may be the closest she'd ever come to Tony again, holding his gun in her hand. Her hands were shaking slightly, but she managed to hold the gun steady.

She moved to shoot the man coming around the corner, and then he fell without her assistance. Tim moved tentatively, and all the breath left Ziva's chest when she realized it was Gibbs. She glanced up at Tim as her eyes rolled back into her head. It was better to be unconscious at a moment like this then to face reality. If anything, her captivity had taught her that.

"Where the hell is Dinozzo?" Gibb's questioned, and Tim bit his lip. This was too much.

"They took him," he explained, surprised when Gibbs punched the wall," He told me to save her," he motioned to Ziva, who was clearly out, her face crumpled in pain, and something else that Gibbs couldn't identify. He'd have to figure out what it was, but he was pretty sure it had something to do with Rule #12.

"Then lets get out of here and re-evaluate the situation. Agent Dunham is waiting for us at the extraction point…."Gibbs voice echoed in Ziva's skull, her eyes clenched tightly as they made their way out of the camp, which was all but deserted. Why had Saleem left them there? Because this was more fun. They knew that he had Tony. He had seen the way it had effected Ziva.

"One short?" Dunham questioned, as they boarded the plane three hours later, and Tim closed his eyes tightly, still cradling Ziva in his arms as they secured her to a hospital bed waiting on the private jet.

"One Short," Gibbs confirmed, the strangeness of the situation not lost on him. It was too dangerous for them to stay. Ziva needed medical attention. It looked like Tim did as well.

What the hell had happened to Dinozzo? That was when Ziva woke up, her body thrashing from the onslaught of painkillers and saline being forced into her body. Her eyes were haunted.

"No," she said suddenly, her eyes scanning the plane and realizing that Tony wasn't' among them.

"Ziver, you need to relax…"Gibbs said softly, and she squinted at him in confusion. Gibbs. He had rescued her?

"No! We have to go back," she breathed softly," We can't just leave him there! He doesn't-" she broke off, coughing harshly as Gibbs lifted her, rubbing her back gently. Dunham stared on in interest.

"Agent Dunham's going back as soon as we get you to a hospital," McGee ventured quietly, and she stared at him in desperation. The look in his eyes said everything. So he knew.

"Ziva," he ventured, and a lone tear made its way down her cheek. She shook her head, placing her well-worn mask back on her face. It wouldn't be worth the pain to admit she'd just lost the person she felt closest to, not when Saleem had clearly stated he planned on killing one of them. She had to be strong. If not for herself, then for Tony at least.

"Go back to sleep," Gibbs said quietly, and she stared up at him, aware she probably looked incredibly child like and weak in his arms. It was enough hiding the way she felt about losing Tony. So she allowed Gibbs to hold her, letting her eyes slide shut as her hands clung to his grey tee shirt desperately. The carefully constructed mask she had worn for the past few years was slipping rapidly under the steady rhythm of Gibb's heartbeat against her chest.

**So….what did you think? This is obviously just a prologue. The fun stuff comes later. I needed another angsty Tony/Ziva story to write. I literally woke up ten minutes ago with this idea. I was dreaming it…and I'm glad I have Truth or Consequences on my ITunes…lol **

**Please let me know if you'd like me to continue. This in no way means I'm abandoning any of my other fics I'm currently working on. **

**-Jena**


	2. Candid Camera

**Play Your Part**

**Part Two**

**Candid Camera**

**Jena Rink**

**AN- This is significantly longer than the first. This was a BLAST to write. It distracted me from Catch me if you can. So sorry about that…lol. Any grammatical errors are mine, spell check does NOT catch everything. I do not own NCIS….just the characters actions and anything that deviates from the original show itself. I would love some actual feedback with words. Like really, I'm touched that so many of you read this and alerted it and whatnot…but saying why would like it makes me want to post more….or alerts me to what you don't understand. I'm also very kind to those that review frequently. You should ask the people that normally review catch me if you can…they get little spoilers and scenes and whatnot in their inboxes frequently. So yeah. Enjoy. Tell me what you think…or whatever. **

**Italics are flashbacks. **

She was screaming in her sleep again. She jumped, awakening herself, sitting upright and staring at Abby's face that was looking down at her with concern. She shouldn't be concerned. As far as Ziva was concerned, Ziva should have died in Somalia. That would have been much easier than dealing with…this. What was this? She'd never felt pain like this before in her life. Perhaps it was her emotions, rearing their ugly head because contrary to what her father had wanted her to do, she did have a heart. And it was broken.

It hurt so much to feel that Ziva didn't want to feel anything ever again. It was like she'd been hollowed out by something. She felt empty. And then there was the knife, constantly piercing at her gut, making her lose all comprehension of everything around her. But there was no cure for it. She'd done this to herself. She'd hidden behind her feelings for so long that she'd never get to tell him how she felt. It didn't even embarrass her anymore.

Mooning after him while he was undercover, wondering why she didn't have what he wanted. Thinking he was dead for the first time, her heart stopping in her chest as she stared at the ruin of his undercover car, unable to cry because of what Gibbs might say, what it might cause. How she'd tried to prod him in the right direction after Jeanne, trying to make him see that in fact he had a heart, and how she'd given up when they had to leave, his cold and impersonal goodbye stinging her to the core.

How she'd tried so hard to fall for Michael, and eventually had, only to see Tony acting like a jealous lover. Everything had been so twisted, she wasn't sure if it could ever be right again, even when they got Tony back. If they got him back. And there were the tears again. The ones she couldn't control, no matter how numb she felt. Her cheeks stung from them. Or from the sand. She wasn't sure. But they weren't in the sand anymore. And maybe he still was. The tears intensified.

She knew Abby cared. She hadn't at first. Ziva was fairly certain that if Gibbs hadn't stopped Abby's screaming that Ziva would be dead already, with no forensic evidence to suggest that Abby had done the deed herself. Perhaps it would have been better that way.

"Ziva," Abby breathed softly, and Ziva clenched her eyes shut, rolling away from Abby, wincing at the slight pull of her IV, which Abby corrected absentmindedly, more focused on the shell of the Mossad Officer laying in the hospital bed in front of her.

It was like she wasn't real. If she was, she'd want out of the hospital now, demand to see Tony, demand to help him like she'd been screaming when they brought her in. Abby had flown out to meet McGee and Gibbs and Ziva after word had gotten back to DC. They needed her help at the crime scene in Somalia. But the sand had washed most of it away.

She didn't have tire tracks, she hardly had anything except for left behind broken guns, and Saleem's supply of Caff Pow. So far she'd gotten nothing from the scene. And Ziva wasn't talking about it. Neither was Mcgee. He said it wasn't his place, starting his story at the point where Tony was taken away, but not speaking of anything that had happened before that point. But it had to have been bad. Because she could hardly recognize the woman sobbing on the bed, her hands clutching the sheets tightly.

"Abby," her head shot up to stare at the Agent in charge.

"Hi, Chad," she breathed, staring at Ziva again, a strange look on her face,"Anything?" she added quietly, knowing his answer already.

"We can't find them anywhere. I'm not going to stop looking….I promise," he told her, and she nodded, surprised when he squeezed her shoulder gently. He had been great. He seemed to find her oddness endearing. Tim was the only other person that had ever felt that way about her.

Abby needed Tony. That sounded silly. But he was like a 6 foot tall Italian furry teddy bear that sprouted off movie quotes like he was a Chatty Cathy. And she needed something like that right about now. His sarcasm, his overly obvious innuendos. Anything. But everyone was being so solemn. And that was justified, Abby thought, leaning against Chad and staring at Ziva.

"I don't know what to do…I feel horrible," she whispered, and he shook his head.

"We all say things we don't mean when we're angry, Abby. She'll forgive you..she went through a lot already," he reminded her, and she closed her eyes tightly for a moment.

"I'm not even sure if she's in there anymore," Abby whispered, tears pricking at the back of her eyes. Ziva had stopped crying, and was sleeping again.

"This isn't your fault," he told her, and she scoffed.

"Yeah, because flying off the handle and calling her a bitch was totally the realistic way of going about this, Chad," she said between her teeth, angry with herself still for what she had yelled at Ziva.

"_Let go of me!" the voice startled Abby, who had been pacing outside of Mcgee's hospital room. Her head snapped to the left to see Ziva struggling on her hospital bed, which was being rolled down the hallway, Gibbs at her side. There was an odd look on his face, though. He glanced up at Abby, and she frowned. Where the hell was Tony? Why hadn't anyone said anything about Tony? McGee had been the first to arrive, and now he was sleeping off the pain in his wrist, which he'd fractured. So Abby was alone, uninformed, and pissed. _

"_Sedate her if you have to," Gibbs told the doctor, and Abby frowned. _

"_What is going on?" she asked, her hands on her hips, and Gibbs caught her off guard with a knowing glare. _

"_Tony?" she managed softly, and Gibbs shook his head. _

"_Always playing the hero," Gibbs remarked softly, staring at Ziva, who had stopped struggling. They'd tied her down. She must have had a concussion or something._

"_And you're not sure he should have?" Abby ventured softly, confused. _

"_She killed her brother to gain my trust. I don't know…if she's still that girl. But I need to find out before we do anything else," Gibbs said under his breath._

"_Wait…she killed Ari?" Abby whispered, as Ziva finally quieted, her eyes almost catatonic in the pale yellow lights of the hospital. _

"_And she was ordered to. By Eli David," Gibbs said simply. He was never the one to ask for other's opinions. His gut never had led him astray. But something about this situation was different. There was something he wasn't seeing. Maybe Abby would see it. _

"_Is Tony dead?" she asked a moment later, her voice catching on the word dead. _

"_We don't know. They took him, and left," Abby's mouth opened in shock. _

_So Ziva had lied. Gibbs had trusted her so quickly, and for what? For following Mossad's orders? She hadn't trusted Tony, even when there was medical and verbal proof to his accusations. She'd gone off on some suicide mission, and now Tony might be dead as a result of it? Her feet had carried her before she could stop them, finally coming to rest at Ziva's bedside, where Ziva was staring at her, confused, her eyes hazy. _

"_Abby?" Ziva asked, confused. _

"_You, bitch," Abby whispered, and Ziva's face contorted into a strange expression as Abby continued, "How could you not believe him? When everything was presented in front of you, how could you be so blind as to think that Tony didn't care for you?" _

_Ziva opened her mouth to respond, and Abby didn't let her. She was too angry. _

"_You killed Ari under your father's orders! How were we even supposed to trust you? Tony trusted you with his life, even though you stayed in Israel! When Gibbs told us you'd died, he completely shut down! All he cared about was revenge! He didn't stop until he'd gotten the go ahead to kill Saleem! And I don't even think that any of it was worth it! How could you do this?" Abby was trying so hard not to cry, not to grab the scalpel sitting near the doctors instruments and stab Ziva. She'd never been so angry in her life. Ziva's response surprised her. _

"_Why don't you just kill me then? You think I wanted him to come and save me? You think I don't wish it was me instead of him?" Ziva's voice was nothing like Abby remembered it. It was…weak. Hollow. So devoid of emotion that she sounded almost mechanical. _

"_What matters is he cared enough to come! And you just left him there!" Abby responded, and Ziva closed her eyes tightly, a single tear escaping. _

"_What happened?" Ziva stared past Abby at Gibbs, who was standing in the doorway, staring at her, an unreadable expression on his face,"Why is she talking about Ari? What I did to Ari has nothing to do with this…" Gibbs closed the door behind him, and raised an eyebrow at Abby, who looked ready to kill. _

"_I need to know why you killed him to gain my trust. You had orders from your father to eliminate him…"Gibbs said simply, and Ziva closed her eyes tightly. _

"_My father is all but dead to me. And I've been all but dead to him since he sent me to you, "Ziva responded heatedly, her face flushed,"He was my brother, Gibbs! My brother! Do you really think I would have just mindlessly assassinated my brother?" her voice had started to shake without him realizing it,"When I shot him…I wasn't following orders! I was saving you! My old family is dead, and my new family wishes I was dead. So what is the difference anyways? I do not deserve your forgiveness for this! You should have just left me in Somalia!" her voice broke on the last word, and Abby sucked in a breath, staring at her in shock," You think I wanted to leave you?" she mumbled," You don't think I was forced by some sick desire to please my father, who essentially left me to die? He is NOT my family."_

_The words were just flooding out of Ziva. She was in shock at first, surprised they would question her on why she had killed Ari. But then it shifted. It became more about the fact that she had stayed in Israel. That she had left them all behind. That asking to be transferred so she wouldn't have to leave them all together and then being left in Israel had been a slap in the face. _

_Her father hadn't told her that she had to finish what Michael started. He'd strongly suggested that it was the only way he would see her as a daughter again. And it seemed as if he was all she had left. So she had done it without a second thought, getting more and more angry by the day at her decision, as they prepared for a mission that seemed like it would just be a waste of time. _

_And now it seemed like she just couldn't stop. Apparently her well constructed mask had been ripped off the instant Abby had accused her of not believing Tony. Because she had come to. She had come to hate herself for throwing his assistance back in his face. And then she was crying. Hot, thick tears that reminded her of when she was little and had stubbed her toe, or when her father had yelled at her for ripping her dress climbing a tree. _

_She was crying out all the anger and frustration. Did she really belong anywhere anymore? That's why she had taken the mission in the first place. Because it took her away from everyone and everything that had started to make her human, make her soft. And now she was softer than ever. _

_Her head was pounding. She could barely see Gibbs and Abby, staring at her in shock. They'd never seen her emotional before. Tony was the only one that had ever seen her cry like this. When they were having their sappy romantic movie weekend while he was the boss. She felt like she couldn't breathe, like there were bricks on her chest, and started coughing, her eyes wide. _

"_Oh my God! Gibbs! Get the doctor!" she tasted blood in her mouth, and her eyes widened. She didn't realize she had bitten her tongue. _

"_She's having a panic attack," The doctor informed them," Miss David. You need to relax," she would have if she could have. Was this doctor crazy, telling her to relax at a time like this? _

"_Ziver…its okay. I trust you," Gibbs breathed in her ear, and she started to calm down, taking great big heaving breaths once she had spit the blood into the cup provided to her, gasping as she laid down, her exhaustion getting the best of her. Her eyes rolled up in the back of her head, and she lost consciousness. _

_Abby had fled from the room soon after, fighting the urge to vomit. Why had she done that? That was about as idiotic as it came, screaming at Ziva. She had been in captivity for months! This was ridiculous. She needed to get a handle on herself. _

"_Miss Scuito?" she glanced up, her eyes meeting a familiar face. _

"_Agent Dunham?" she said in confusion, and he nodded, his eyes narrowed. _

"_What happened?" he asked her, and she shook her head. _

"_I did something stupid," Abby responded, tears running down her cheeks. She stiffened for a moment when he hugged her, surprised at his forwardness. _

"_This has had to be rough on all of you. I'm going to do my best to find Agent Dinozzo," Dunham said, squeezing her shoulders gently. She saw Gibbs exit the room a second later, running a hand through his hair and turning to stare at her. She flinched from his gaze. He was mad. _

"_Do you want to get some coffee? I can tell you what I know," Dunham ventured, and Abby nodded, quickly, turning to follow him down the hallway, his hand on her lower back, steering her. He'd looked so rough around the edges when they'd talked to him in MTAC. But right now he was just what she needed. Something to keep her from thinking about what she'd said to Ziva. Because it was eating her up inside. _

"_So do you wear chains every day, or is this just a Tuesday sort of thing?" he'd asked her, as she poured sugar packet after sugar packet into her drink, deciding it would be an homage to Tony. She shot him a look, slightly annoyed. _

"_And I sleep in a coffin. Does that scare you?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, and he shook his head. That was the point where most men would turn around and run. But Agent Dunham didn't. He just looked slightly surprised before smiling at her. _

"_I've seen weirder. You forget that I'm a field agent," he reminded her, taking a sip of his coffee and staring out the window at the bright sunshine. He really did kind of look like a grizzly bear, with all that facial hair and his tan skin, Abby decided, finally finishing putting in sugar and taking a sip, wincing slightly. _

_She hated coffee. But for the details, she'd drink it. And the company wasn't half bad either. _

* * *

Tony, was sloshed. Or at least he felt drunk. He most certainly tied to a chair by those damn twisty tie things. He had most certainly been stabbed somewhere, because he could smell blood, and he most certainly…was in deep shit. If he was with a girl, this had to be the worst kind of bondage ever. A girl? Why was he supposed to be thinking about a girl? He couldn't seem to remember anything at the moment. He just felt…pain. Lots of pain.

"You look confused," the voice started him, and then he glanced up, tilting his head to the side to try and make sense of the situation. Dark room, small windows, small light. This was what real interrogation looked like. He was sure of that. It was just like a movie. He was pretty sure that the movie actors weren't fighting back tears of pain. The wound, which he finally managed to glance at on his thigh, was clearly infected, and still bleeding. That was going to need stitches. He'd better say something back…

"All I'm confused at, is why you took me, Gentlemen," Tony said, his voice slightly slurred as he stared at the multiple versions of the same person swimming in his vision. He felt like throwing up. That wouldn't' be very manly. This was a mess. What the hell was going on? He had the strong urge to ask for a martini, but quelled it, waiting for the man, who was staring to actually become just one man, to speak. Oh, so it was him. Oh great.

"Oh, Agent Dinozzo. I'm quite sure that Officer David will do anything I ask to save you…" And there it was, the memories he'd been missing. Arriving with McGee, being dragged into an interrogation room curiously like this one, and Ziva. He glanced around wildly for a moment, and realized he was alone. So where the hell was she? Hopefully McProbie had been a good boy and gotten her out like he'd asked. She may hate him, but at least she wouldn't die because of him. He swallowed, glancing up at the man, who was drinking coffee. Bastard couldn't have his Caff Pow now, could he? It was too easy to trace.

God, Ziva. He'd talked to her? He wasn't sure. He had to know more.

"Thought you said wars were measured in body counts," Tony muttered, spitting out blood again. Gross. That was disgusting. Seriously. Why was he coughing up blood? Maybe some internal bleeding? And why hadn't Saleem killed him yet? Didn't he know the way things worked? They weren't going to save him. Not after the stunt they had just pulled to get Ziva out.

"Oh, your body will be added to the list. Just not quite yet. We have to bait them," Saleem told him smugly, and Tony frowned. Bait who? And into what? Oh, NCIS. Mossad. This was ridiculous. Obviously the guy was frazzled. He had to have some other endgame. What did he really want? He was so creepy, like the little Indian guy on Law and Order that you thought owned a deli but really was a mass murderer or something. Tony squinted for a moment, formulating his answer.

"Into what? You let them get away! Do you really think they'll come back?" Tony asked,, very annoyed with the small little man in front of him,"Already told you everything I know. I'm useless. They'll realize that and not come after you," Tony added, a smug smirk on his face. He was pretty sure his face was swollen, but he hadn't seen his reflection…since they'd left the country for Somalia. He must look like hell. Especially his hair. Why was he thinking about his hair at a time like this?

Saleem's voice interrupted his internal monologue.

"But it's so fun to see Officer David suffer," Saleem baited him, waiting for Tony's response. He clenched his teeth, but said nothing. And then he felt the needle pricking at his arm again. It was easier to let the words flow when there was no one to watch but Saleem. When had she suffered? What had they done to her?

He was as good as dead. And she was fine. And that's all that mattered. Except for what Saleem might have done to her. There was a burning anger spreading through his veins like wildfire, and before he could stop himself he'd spoken.

"I swear to God, if you ever touch her again I'll-" Saleem laughed, and Tony frowned, staring at him in confusion. Why was he laughing? This wasn't funny!

"You'll what?" he asked, and Tony bit his lip hard, wincing at the taste of his own blood, reality coming to him quickly. She hadn't even thanked him. She obviously still hated him. He was probably going to die with her hating him.

"It doesn't matter, because Officer Dav-eeed won't take the bait. She doesn't give a crap if I live or die. Actually, if you're going to kill me, you might want to call her, because she might want to assist you," Tony spat, and Saleem's eyes widened in surprise. So there it was. That was easier said then thought of. It actually pained him to think of her in pain at all, and she wished he was six feet under. It was so incredibly screwed up.

"So your love for her was unrequited? Why?" Tony felt the response bubbling at the edge of his consciousness and tried to stop it. He couldn't let this all out. Not now. Why hadn't Ziva asked him this? Would have been harder to answer, but filled with way less pain.

"Work rule…daddy dearest…I killed her boyfriend…She'll never feel the same way about me that I feel about her. Although I'm starting not to like her so much…sitting here with you, the creepy little Indian, in a shanty town in God knows where," Tony remarked, hitting himself on the back of the head internally. This was ridiculous. He was talking like Ducky, with no inner censor," Doesn't matter what I feel for Zee-vah, Saleem. If I think she has nice hair, or gorgeous eyes, or that she's feisty. Because she wishes I was dead," Saleem laughed again, and Tony fought the urge to say more. He couldn't say more. He wanted to.

"Doesn't matter if I love her. Because I never got to tell her. And if things go this way, I'll die before I get to, and she can go on with her life. Which is what she deserves. Especially after dealing with you," Tony managed softly, his eyes widening in realization. Why was he so damn attached to her? The drug was providing all the answers. And then it suddenly made sense.

"Oh my God. I really do love her. I want her to be happy even though she wants to kill me!" he said, his eyes panicked. What if he never got to tell her?

"I am not sure if that's what the prophets meant when they spoke of love," Saleem responded, and Tony couldn't help but snort.

"Ziva would be like..way better than 72 virgins, Saleem," he said honestly, and there was a glint in Saleem's eye that caught Tony off guard. He didn't. Oh he did. Tony couldn't even think of it. He just wanted to punch something.

"You son of a bitch," Tony whispered, his eyes murderous, and Saleem frowned.

"How does that feel to you? Having your…idolized version of the woman you love destroyed?" Saleem questioned, and Tony thought for a moment, fighting back the effects of the drug. Oh what was the point? He might as well make it sting.

"Maybe something like playing for Yale's football team," he burst out suddenly, and Saleem rolled his eyes," Like I'm in the Lava Pits in Revenge of the Sith," he added, wincing as he realized he'd slipped again,"You've got to stop with this…damn…"he trailed off, and Saleem shook his head.

"You Americans, you all wear a mask. It is much easier for me to say what I am feeling, because there is nothing in the way of it. I know what I want," he told Tony, almost cockily, and Tony shook his head.

"Yes, death, destruction, and pillaging. That's a mighty set of goals there," Tony said back sarcastically.

"I just…find it interesting. Taking the mask off of the American, who has always had time to think before he spoke, to hide what he was really feeling. That is all," Saleem said back, and Tony squinted at him. Why was he talking about masks? Was it supposed to symbolize something? He was almost in too much pain to care. This guy, loved death, destruction. Why do all of this?

"No its not. There's more to this. Otherwise you would have already killed me," Tony said, glaring at him.

"But you want to be dead?" Saleem said knowingly, and Tony swallowed. The answer was obvious, and he didn't fight it this time.

"If it means you don't hurt Ziva," Tony slipped, angered with his own emotion,"Come on, what's your endgame little man? It'll be much easier for both of us if you just let that out. Because you know it has to be more than about hurting me, or hurting her. She's too strong to be broken completely. She's too good at controlling her emotions," Tony finished softly, staring at Saleem. This was almost like a casual chat with friends. It was too strange. It would make for a good movie, he decided. And then Saleem started to talk again.

"Well why don't we talk about that then, her mask…"Saleem ventured, sitting down on a chair in front of Tony, and Tony couldn't help but roll his eyes as he responded.

"It wasn't a mask to me…" he said, staring at Saleem's eyes for a reaction. It had dawned on him that the longer he got Saleem to talk, the more chance he'd have of the team discovering some sort of lead. Even though he wasn't sure he wanted them to come and rescue him anymore.

"Well she must have fooled you well if you fell in love with her-" Tony cut him off.

"Don't talk about her like that-" Tony started, and Saleem tilted his head to the side, staring at him for a moment.

"You're so defensive of her. Did you not say she loathed you?"

"Doesn't matter. She doesn't matter right now. None of this matters…I don't care…"Tony said finally. That was the root of the problem. His mind was spewing out whatever crap ran through it. It was like verbal diarrhea. Good God. He had to get this stuff out of his system. This was insane. He couldn't stop talking about her. That should have been his first clue. God he was an idiot. How had he not realized he loved her sooner? Not that it would ever work. And then he stared talking again.

"I'm not the type of guy you bring home to your Mossad Director father…any father, actually. I'm not a good guy. Maybe I wanted to be that guy for her, but you're obviously going to kill me, can you please do it before this Dear Abby moment ends?" Saleem shook his head, and Tony cursed under his breath.

"You're killing me here," Tony muttered," Why is this of any interest to you? NCIS, CIA, FBI, they do not negotiate with terrorists. So you might as well just kill me and get it over with, because I-" his eyes noticed the video camera in the corner, and his eyes went wide.

"Oh god," he muttered, realizing he'd said the whole thing to a camera, that was recording, the little red right blinking.

"You're sure this wont make her come back? With all of them?" Tony squinted.

"This has got to be the worst kind of Candid Camera ever," Tony said, his stomach churning. He was going to send this to her? Oh…_shit._

**Oh man, this chapter was a gas to write. Especially the Tony scene. I really hope you enjoy it. **** Click the button. Leave a review..its so easy! **


	3. The Beginning and End

Play your Part Part Three: The beginning and End

Jena Rink

AN- Disclaimers from Ch 1 apply. This is a little shorter, and entirely Ziva centric. Hope you like it.

**_We begin and end with family. _**

Ziva, was restless. She couldn't stand being locked up like this. Her hands were still cuffed to the bed, although it was a soft cuff, it reminded her of her time in captivity, and it was starting to make her crazy. Apparently she had to talk if she wanted anything. Abby had left the room, and she was alone. It had been a long couple of days. She was so, angry. Her feelings had shifted rapidly through the past couple of days, from anger at Tony for doing something so idiotic, so incredibly stupid and foolhardy, but most distinctly Tony…to something else. She wasn't sure what it was, but she had a burning desire to see his face again. He was all she was thinking about. She had barely spoken since she'd arrived, Abby had let out her frustration at Ziva the second she'd seen her. And she hadn't seen Gibbs or Abby or Agent Dunham at all, not since her admission.

There was a knock on the door, and she glanced up blearily, her eyes widening at what she saw. Of all the people that could have come to her hospital room, he wanted to show his face? He was always too proud to admit that he'd made an error. Sending her to Somalia, had most definitely been an error. Ziva stared at him in confusion, slightly apprehensive at the thought that she was tied down and there wasn't a nurse nearby. She'd just have to keep him talking. Hopefully someone would come. They'd been avoiding her like the plague. But she knew they were here.

"What are you doing here?" she questioned, unable to think of anything else to say. She was surprised he had gotten past Gibbs and Abby. Probably pulled his officer papers and was led right in. She'd never wanted to hurt her father until now, standing there, so smug in his white linen suit, his eyes lined with false concern.

"I am glad to see you are well," she scoffed, and he stared at her strangely. Eli David was a man of all business. And Ziva didn't feel like doing business anymore. She'd made the choice the second she saw his face. Mossad was…over for her. She did not want this life any longer.

"Please say whatever it is that you have to say and leave," Ziva responded, tilting her head to the side and staring at her father. He looked, frazzled. He was never frazzled. Whatever the reason was he had come, it wasn't because of her. Or maybe it was. His hidden agendas had always surprised and even sometimes shocked Ziva. Was he really and truly so heartless?

"I have come to take you back to Israel," he said, and she couldn't help but laugh, reaching for the control on her bed and pressing the button so that she could sit up, staring at him incredulously. He had to be joking. What was there, anymore? Him? Her duty to Israel? Her duty only stemmed out of what she felt she had to do to make him happy. And Ziva no longer had any desire to make her father happy. Her recent brush with death, if anything, had taught her that life shouldn't be like this.

"And for what reason? Have I not done enough? You left me there, for dead," Ziva said, her fingers clenched in the cuffs, imagining all the ways she could hurt Eli if she could only break free. The pleasantries they shared were of the past. She was done keeping up appearances.

"I received a video yesterday, from Saleem," Ziva tensed for a moment, her eyes betraying the cool and calm exterior she was trying to exude. What video was he speaking of? Her eyes hardened slightly, and suddenly she was somewhere else, her shirt being pulled from her body as she struggled, her screams of pain. Her eyes welled unconsciously with tears, and she fought they back, staring at her father silently. Saleem had filmed the majority of her capture. The red light of the camera had mocked her, blinking a steady rhythm as she was held underwater, burned, forced to say everything on her mind, no matter how hard she tried to stop it, or…the worst torture of all she'd endured. She didn't want to think about it. She felt used, damaged. She was sure that the doctors knew, but they hadn't told Gibbs or Abby. Ziva had done this herself. She didn't need the pity of them when they read the report. Her father's voice snapped her mind back into the present.

"It is of your Agent Dinozzo," he said, and her eyes narrowed. _Her _Agent Dinozzo? She wasn't sure what he was trying to insinuate. That they were lovers? Maybe they would have been. If it wasn't for the mask she was forced to wear every day working with him. Gibbs rules, Jeanne, Michael…it all had flooded into a situation that Ziva honestly believed was beyond repair. But the question remained, why had he come? Why, after she told him she wished he had been the one to die, did he come and save her? His answer, aided by the serum Ziva had known all too well, had startled her. So much that she barely remembered what he had said at all. All she could remember was the look in his eyes as they had dragged him away.

"It leaves no clues to their whereabouts. But I believed I might gain some insight into this…agent if I watched it," her eyes narrowed as his voice snapped her out of her thoughts of Tony. God, what had they done to him? Never mind her. She'd be fine. She just wanted him to be alright, regardless of whether or not he hated her now.

"Then he is alive," she chose her words carefully. She didn't want to make Eli think that she had anything but extreme dislike for Tony. In truth, it had certainly become the opposite while she was in captivity. She had had too much time to think. Too much time to see that Tony had had her best interests at heart. She was too blinded by her need to save Michael. He was a lost cause. She should have focused on something else.

She'd craved his correction of her English, that look that he gave her sometimes from across the bullpen which meant he was desperately trying to figure out what was going on in her mind. Their bathroom rendezvous, filled with tension. Anything that didn't make her think of what had been going on at the moment.

"He talked about you, as a matter of fact," she fought to keep her breathing steady. What had he said? Was she sure she even wanted to see this tape? See how much her betrayal had cost him. The harsh truth was that even if he was alive now, there would be no negotiations. He pushed the tape into the player, and Ziva bit her lip tightly, staring at the screen, fighting back any sort of emotion. She couldn't break. She had to be strong for this. For Tony. Even if he loathed her.

It started out rather simply. And then…it wasn't anymore. But wasn't that the way everything worked these days?

"_**It doesn't matter, because Officer Dav-eeed won't take the bait. She doesn't give a crap if I live or die. Actually, if you're going to kill me, you might want to call her, because she might want to assist you,"**_

Ziva's breath caught in her throat. He'd saved her, even though he thought she hated him? He blamed himself, she realized silently, fighting to keep her expression stoic as Saleem continued, talking to Tony in a condescending tone that made her want to get up and punch something. He had been a master manipulator. She'd told him…about her entire life. He was probably loving this, hearing their story from both sides. And then it felt like her heart had stopped when she dimly heard what he uttered next.

"_**Doesn't matter what I feel for Zee-vah, Saleem. If I think she has nice hair, or gorgeous eyes, or love that she's feisty. Because she wishes I was dead…Doesn't matter if I love her. Because I never got to tell her. And if things go this way, I'll die before I get to, and she can go on with her life. Which is what she deserves. Especially after dealing with you,"**_

It felt like the roof was caving in on her, falling onto her chest. But she could say nothing. Her father's eyes were not glued to the screen, but to Ziva, trying to see her reaction. Of course he would watch her. On the outside, she was fine, watching the scene with a sense of unattachement. But inside, she was crumbling.

"You let them leave you in Israel because of this man?" Eli questioned, and Ziva clenched her eyes shut for a moment. It took her a few seconds to realize what she had to do. This was done. What was the sense in hiding her emotions any longer? Look where it had gotten her, hiding behind a mask so thick, so carefully guarding every step and word that she couldn't tell that Tony had loved her. They were her family. Regardless of the fact that she was quite sure that Abby wanted her dead, and that none of them should trust her, she would earn their trust back. The real way. Not by following orders.

"I let them leave me with you, because I was blind as to what my family actually consisted of!" she finally burst out, and Eli smiled. He'd been baiting her. She turned her face back towards the screen, staring hungrily at Tony's face. He looked like hell. He didn't deserve this. This wasn't fair. She was reminded of Tony telling her that life was like a box of chocolates, and you never knew what you were going to get. A quote from a film, no doubt. She was tired of pretending. All these years…her emotions had been completely closed off. At first she'd been scared. And then it had become something else. The need to please Gibbs, who treated her like one of his own. The need to obey his rules even if there were times when it killed her to do it. She hadn't realized how angry she was until her eyes caught the last bit of the video. He looked genuinely horrified that she would see this. But maybe it was better now. She knew. She wasn't going to stop until she found him, and at least attempted to fix the shattered pieces of their relationship.

"_**I'm not the type of guy you bring home to your Mossad Director father…any father, actually. I'm not a good guy. Maybe I wanted to be that guy for her, but you're obviously going to kill me, can you please do it before this Dear Abby moment ends?"**_

"He is right in saying he was not good enough for you," Eli ventured, and Ziva clenched her teeth. What did he know about Tony? That he was not Jewish? That he was cocky? That he cared about her?

"He's better for me than you are," Ziva countered, and Eli's eyes narrowed.

"He killed Rivkin," Eli pointed out, and Ziva wished she could throw her hands up in frustration.

"Rivkin was a farce! You wanted to see if I had gone soft? If America had changed me into a person..instead of a mindless killer at your disposal?" Ziva questioned, her voice rising.

"You realize that you have gone soft, then?" Eli asked simply.

"Get…out," she said between clenched teeth, her eyes staring at Tony's still, staring at the screen in shock. The screen faded to the grey and black snow, and she turned her head slightly to stare at him. It was now or never. She wasn't sure she'd ever have the courage.

"Is that the way to talk to your father?" Eli questioned, and Ziva closed her eyes tightly, opening them to stare at this man who was making her life a living hell. A man who was her blood, but she barely felt close to at all. He was worse for her than anything else. He'd sucked all the emotion and caring out of her life. And she needed to get it back. So she said the only thing that made sense.

"I quit," she breathed, and his eyes hardened.

"If you do not want my help-" Eli started, and Ziva stared at him in astonishment.

"I think I am much capable of finding Tony myself, without you in the way," she spat out. He frowned. Let him try and stop her. If she was no longer Mossad, and no longer a part of NCIS, then she would do things her way.

"You cannot un do this choice. You choose to cut yourself off from your family?" Ziva swallowed. She already knew the answer to that question. People came into mind in her head. The kind that insisted you had to watch movies to become American, that took you out to dinner and helped you adjust to living in Washington…that knew instantly when something was wrong…and exactly what to say….that cared about you in a way that this man never could. Eli had not been her family since Tali had died. And hopefully, she still had he new one. If they'd take her back.

"You were never my family," she whispered softly, her voice hard. She didn't notice Gibbs in the doorway," You sent me to kill my own brother, you sent Michael my way when you knew he was damaged, you used me to achieve your own ends. And that is over."

"Then that is your answer. Goodbye," Eli said simply walking out the door and leaving Ziva, still staring at the screen in shock. She jumped slightly as Gibbs removed the restraints on her arms, and glanced up at him, tears filling her eyes.

She opened her mouth to say something, staring at the empty doorway. She could not believe she'd done that. The courage and adrenaline involved was fading quickly. And the reality was setting in.

"I just quit Mossad. I just quit my father…my family…my country…"she realized, shock radiating through her. Gibbs pulled her into a hug tentatively, not wanting to stress her out any more than necessary. Eli had shot him a strange look as he left. Gibbs wasn't sure what it constituted of. But he chose his own meaning. Ziva had been his family since she'd killed her brother to save his life. Before and after he'd known that it had been an order. And she'd just severed all ties with what was left of her old life. She was trembling in his arms.

"You didn't quit your family or your country. We'll just get you a new one," Gibbs whispered in her ear, and tears welled in her eyes, and then she was crying. For Tali, for Ari, for Jenny, for Tony…for all that she had lost, and the way things had ended up. And Gibbs held her the whole time, whispering words of comfort in her ear. So they still cared. At least Gibbs did. She pulled back hesitantly, staring at him strangely.

"Gibbs, I am-"he shook his head, staring at her as she wiped her eyes.

"Apologizing is a sign of weakness," he reminded her, and she glanced down.

"Well then maybe I am weak, right now…"she said finally, and he sighed, brushing her hair off of her face.

"You need to rest. We'll sort everything out later, Ziver…"her eyes had strayed to the television, and he followed them, realizing there was a tape inside. She had to tell him. Perhaps as she slept they would find a lead.

"Saleem sent him a tape…"Ziva found herself saying softly,"It is in the player…I…"she was quite aware that by doing this she'd open up another can of worms. Maybe it was too risky. But if she was going to sacrifice everything anyways, she might as well be honest.

"A tape of Dinozzo?" Ziva nodded quickly, wincing at the slight pain in her neck.

"I…I am not sure how you will feel about me as a person after you watch it," she responded quickly,"Perhaps you will not feel the same about giving me a new home and a new family…but…Tony…"she trailed off, a strange look on her face, and Gibbs frowned.

"What happened in there?" he ventured, and she closed her eyes tightly for a moment.

"I don't want to talk about that now. What is important is that we find him…"her face was pained, and Gibbs recognized the look right away.

"What's wrong with him?" Gibbs asked, his eyes boring into hers. She flinched slightly. Should she really tell him this? Perhaps it would lessen the shock.

"I think he's in love with me. That's whats wrong with him," Ziva murmured.

* * *

**So this is shorter, and for that I apologize. WOW, with the story alerts and reviews and love from the reviewers! Im posting this now because its Thanksgiving weekend, and Im going out of town! Woot. And I wanted to give you something.**

**So yeah, review! Tell me what you liked about this.**


	4. All of my Regrets are nothing new

Play your Part

All of my Regrets are Nothing New

Jena Rink

Disclaim- Don't own this don't sue. I did however, create the plot.

Authors Note- meep Im so sorry this took so long!!! Please don't kill me!

And its short. Just give me a week or so and you'll get your regular updates back.

Longer ones, too. Plese review!

The room was silent. Ziva ran a hand through her hair somewhat jerkily, not quite used to having full use of her arms again. They'd been tied up for so long. But she wasn't thinking about that. Her eyes were staring up at Gibb's hesitantly, afraid of his reaction. She looked something like a child who had done something naughty, she surmised, as she tried to read the expression on his face anxiously. It was hard to want his approval so badly when this was mostly his fault. She had to rationalize it that way…it was the only way. Because saying that she'd denied herself this because of her own insecurities was too much to handle at the moment.

For once, Gibbs was speechless. He'd seen the signs. Their time undercover, her insistence to drive him home. The hurt look he'd given her when she'd called Gibbs instead of him. The strange looks she gave him while he was with Jeanne. It all made sense. He'd just told himself that they wouldn't break a rule that was so important. But they must have. Otherwise they wouldn't be in this situation. And Michael…Tony's seemingly jealous nature while Ziva almost seemed to be smug as well as secretive about her relationship. And at the same time angry? Because he finally wanted her and she wasn't available any longer.

"We never broke your damn rule," Ziva's voice cut through his thoughts,"And that may have been the problem here. Because if you would have let us, I would have trusted him more. I would not have left!" she said softly, and he raised an eyebrow. Ziva had always been so guarded. To say that she could have just told Tony didn't make any sense. That wasn't the way her mind worked.

"You're saying you would have admitted that you had feelings for Dinozzo," he ventured softly, and she closed her eyes tightly for a moment. Would she have? She would have been scared. He was always the one to take risks. And she was the first one to shut him out. What would it even feel like to come clean, normally? Not aided by a drug or by a situation that provoked her need to expel her secrets? She didn't know.

"I do not know what that would feel like…"she verbalized, "But Saleem shot him full of serum again…obviously…and he…"she motioned to the video, and Gibbs frowned,"I would like to think that he was well aware of it. I was well of aware of his feelings, at any rate. I have spent the last tree years try to fend him off because of your rules…"Gibbs stared at her in astonishment. She was fully accepting a headslap, but he didn't give one.

"Serum?" Gibbs questioned, confused, and Ziva frowned.

"Truth Serum…you know…like Harry Potter?" she asked hesitantly, and Gibbs shot her a look.

"Again?" he said a second later, and she closed her eyes tightly.

"He was most definitely…out of it when I saw him. He couldn't stop looking at me. It was unnerving," Ziva whispered, her thoughts flying back to the short time they had," I was so in shock that I didn't realize what he was saying to me…what he was trying to…I am a donkey's butt," she finished softly, her eyes glued to the blanket. She couldn't think of a better way to describe herself at the moment. The drugs had her off her game. But hadn't she just decided to stop playing it?

"I think what you mean is a horse's ass," McGee said from the doorway, and she glanced up, her eyes wide. Well at least he was alright. She was clearly the one that was worse for the wear. She needed to do something about Tony. She was itching to get out of the hospital and find him. She was sure Saleem was counting on that. But she couldn't bring herself to care. She realized both Tim and Gibbs were staring at her, and figured she'd better say something.

"McGee. You're alright," she breathed, trying to create a false sense of normalcy, and he nodded, his eyes staring at the screen. She swallowed. She was sure Tony wouldn't want everyone to see this video. She had to find someone to help that wouldn't…but Tim had already figured it out, hadn't he? Then he would be the one to help.

"You're watching tv?" he said, confused, and Ziva sighed. Gibbs voice cut through the tension in the room.

"McGee, I need you to get paperwork from Vance…start the process of getting Ziva registered for her citizenship test…and get the paperwork for her to become a temporary NCIS agent as well," Ziva felt choked up. Was that the expression? Tony had given her grief for it more than once, she was sure. Misquoting some very important American saying.

"Gibbs," she breathed, as McGee stared on in confusion, "You need to have him analyze the tape…something…I don't want anyone to see it that doesn't have to,"she trailed off, and he nodded, understanding. He rarely felt guilty. That must be the feeling coursing through his chest. But looking at Ziva, appearing like a china doll against the sheets, her normally tan skin pale, her eyes bright with worry, that made him feel more guilty than he'd felt in a long time.

"That I can do," Gibbs said, squeezing her shoulder gently,"You just get some rest, and don't freak out on me again. We don't need Probies with panic attacks," she nodded hesitantly, staring at him.

"I-"

"We'll find him, Ziva. Don't worry," he said, leaving McGee and Ziva alone in the room as he walked out.

"We were sent a tape? And why do I need to get…"she cut him off.

"You realized something on the plane, did you not?" she cut to the chase, crossing her arms, and Tim nodded slowly, "Keep it in mind when you watch that…"she added, as he took the tape out of the player.

"Ziva, want me to send Abby in? She's been pacing in the hallway for the last few days…and…"Ziva nodded slowly. It would be best to talk to Abby while she had the courage to do so.

"Please hurry with the tape. Its more important than the other things he asked you to do," Ziva said, and he nodded again, slipping out the door. Tim wasn't one for many words, unless he was writing. And that was nice. But now Ziva was slightly nervous about talking to Abby. Because Abby was all about words, and Ziva was quite sure she'd just gotten rid of all the ones she had store up. The only ones she had left were for him, and she wasn't sure she'd ever see Tony alive again.

* * *

"Seventy two bottles of beer on the wall, seventy two bottles of beer-"there was a bang on the wall, and Tony took a deep breath, opening his cracked lips to sing some more,"Take one down, pass it around, seventy one bottles of beer on the wall…"the door banged open, and he glanced up, a wry smile on his face.

"What's up, Saleem? You don't like to sing?" he questioned wryly, and winced slightly when Saleem punched him in the face,"Obviously you never sang the fight song at Yale," he added as an afterthought.

"I only sing when I am in prayer," Saleem explained, and Tony glanced up at the ceiling for a moment. He'd woken up this morning…was it morning? Feeling extremely witty.

"What are you praying for? Good suicide bombers? No premature detonators? Oh…wait..."Tony said conversationally.

"You should ask your girlfriend," Saleem said back, a glint in his eye, and Tony fought back a sarcastic retort, trying to think of something besides Saleem violating Ziva. The time for lying was past. There was no point in giving Tony truth serum any longer, because he wasn't sure he'd live any longer. And the secrets Saleem wanted didn't have anything to do with the US government.

"She's not my girlfriend. I thought we established this unrequited love thing yesterday," Tony told him, leaning back against the wall, leaning his head back and closing his eyes,"And its funny that you're using me as bait. The truth serum never lies, Saleem. She ain't gonna bite," Tony added, and Saleem chuckled.

"You seem to be underestimating yourself…you think you are the only one that I gave the serum to?" Tony stared at him in confusion for a moment before his eyes widened in comprehension.

"So you're telling me you know all of Ziva's deepest darkest secrets?" Tony deadpanned, leaning back against the wall,"All of my regrets are nothing new," he added,"Listening to her say whatever she had to say isn't going to-" A blast rocked the building, and Saleem genuinely looked shocked.

"So I'm taking it those weren't your men?" Tony questioned wryly, even though he felt like crap.

"Close your mouth, be sil-"the door flew open, and Saleem was dead before he could speak, Tony staring at the man in the doorway in astonishment.

"Guidon? Never thought I'd say this. But it is damn good to see you," Tony breathed, surprised when he cut the plastic ties binding his legs and hands together.

"You need to come with us…Director David wishes to speak with you," Tony nodded, his eyes flying to Saleem, his eyes open and glassy.

"You need to seize the tapes he has…see if there is anything Ziva let slip. He gave her truth serum," he told Ben, who nodded shortly, an arm over Tony's shoulder, steering him towards the door,"And why does David want to see me? Our last meeting was less than pleasant," Tony added, his voice slightly slurred from the spinning his head had encountered at getting up so quickly.

He didn't understand Ben's response, partially because his vision was becoming increasingly blurred as they fought their way through the building, Ben repeatedly dropping him to engage others in combat. The room slid out of focus, and then into black, and Tony didn't get his answer, not realizing that he was being loaded into a helicopter or that they were taking off, that the building had blown up soon after, or anything else. He was simply too exhausted to care.


	5. All the worlds a stage

Play Your Part

The World is But a Stage-

March 1, 2010

**Oh god. I'm so sorry it's been so long. I'm too embarrassed to write something else. Ha-ha. This is sorta on hiatus…only because I'm moving across the country right now…so it's insanely difficult to update in a timely manner. This is like…my favorite part. I LOVED writing it. It's a tid bit smutty there at the end. Children, cover your eyes. Haha. Tell me what you think??**

Ziva was glad to leave the hospital. The clothes Abby had handed her awkwardly were baggy on her small frame. She had yet to gain any of the weight or muscle back, and would not be allowed to return to NCIS field duty until she did. She stared at Gibbs in aggravation as he watched McGee push her towards the door in her wheelchair.

"This is ridiculous, Tim," she commented softly, and he smiled down at her tiredly.

"Ziva…its hospital policy. I know you don't like it…"she wasn't listening to his words because Director Vance had walked in at the end of the hallway. What was he doing in Dubai?

"Vance, what are you doing here?" Gibbs asked, his eyes not straying from Ziva. He'd been fiercely protective of her since their argument upon her arrival.

"I need to speak with Agent David," she couldn't help the small smile that spread across her face at the words. So her application had been approved. Despite everything that had happened, something had gone right.

"Hello, Director," Ziva managed softly, standing up shakily once she had gotten to the door, Gibbs reaching over to steady her, his hand wrapped around her upper left arm.

"Your father has refused to share any information with me. He is very aggravated." Vance explained, and I squinted.

"What would you like to know?" she asked softly, wringing her hands as they walked towards the car.

"McGee, go and meet Abs at the hotel…" Gibbs said, climbing into the black Mercedes with Vance after helping Ziva inside.

"Gibbs, is it really necessary for you to be here…"

"You know the beginning…you supplied the Intel to Director David…"Ziva ventured, and Vance nodded," He sent me and Officer Guidon to Somalia…we bartered passage on the Damocles…and when a fire fight ensued we were forced to continue on and sink the ship. There was no alternative. We were both injured, but I went on alone…"

"Did you have any other intelligence concerning Saleem?" Ziva flinched slightly before responding.

"That he perhaps had a camp in southern Egypt…but the Intel was either faulty or they had never been there in the first place…"the look in Vance's eyes scared her.

"We found his body today…"he said, and she frowned, her face paling.

"Tony?" she asked hesitantly, and Vance shook his head. She felt herself visibly relax for a moment, but then the relaxation was replaced by something else. Fear. Where was he?

"Saleem…the compound in Egypt was blown up…apparently. Agent Dinozzo was no where to be found…we can only assume that he escaped or that he was not with them any longer," Ziva felt her heart drop into her stomach, and leant back against the cushions.

"And who infiltrated the camp?" she asked softly, and Vance shrugged.

"Apparently Mossad was the only one that knew about this Intel…so we believe it was them…"Ziva glanced over at Gibbs, her expression solemn.

"Do you really think they would spare Tony just because I-" Gibbs shot her a look before she could finish the sentence.

"Because you what, Agent David?" she swallowed.

"Because I am his partner," she said lamely, glancing down at her lap. Vance did not need to know about this. Any of it. It was useless to pretend that there was nothing there, but it seemed as if she'd never get to find out.

* * *

Tony felt like a dead man walking. Apparently that's what he was. Nothing about getting them out of wherever he had been was done by the books. His wounds were bandaged quickly, and then they were bartering passage on a ship while Tony concentrated on staying upright. There was money exchanged, and Tony felt this entire situation was extremely shady. But he didn't really have a say in the matter. It wasn't like he could run off and be fine. He could barely stand, his leg was throbbing, and his thoughts were muddled. Why hadn't they called NCIS? And where was Ziva? Wasn't she Mossad?

He'd lost track of the hours and days while he was held captive. Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe he'd wake up and realize he was being tortured for information again. He shivered slightly, despite the heat, as they walked across the deck of the ship and towards the belly of it. He functioned on autopilot because it was easier to do that then to feel.

Guidon led him into a room with two bunks, and helped him onto the lower one, pushing two pills into his hand. Tony took them gratefully, chasing them down with the cup of water that was provided. He didn't really care about anything except sleep right now. He supposed it was somewhat like what Ziva felt, numb to the outside world. His eyes slid shut easily. He'd probably been given a sedative. That would make it easier. His leg was still throbbing. His lungs were burning, badly. He'd been coughing for about a week, maybe? Time didn't really have meaning anymore. All Tony did in that cell was try to annoy Saleem enough so that his rage would break and he'd finally end Tony's suffering.

"There is fluid in his lungs," he groaned, trying to regain his bearings. He felt sluggish.

"Dinozzo…do you have a history of bronchitis?" he grunted, cracking an eye open blearily to stare up at Guidon.

"Plague," he managed, his lips cracked, and Guidon frowned.

"What?" he questioned, and Tony opened his other eye, trying to sit up.

"I had the Plague…. my lungs are scarred," he wheezed slightly.

"Dinozzo, lay back down!" he said, and Tony complied, slightly petulant, staring up at him in annoyance as the doctor checked him out.

"You have bronchitis. You have a broken collarbone and a fractured rib," Tony shrugged, wincing slightly.

"Nothing a little rest won't cure," he slurred, his eyes starting to slide shut again, despite his resistance.

"Dinozzo!" Guidon said again, and he opened his eyes slowly.

"Sorry," he said softly, trying to stay alert," Ask me another question…"

"Are you allergic to any medications?" Tony shook his head, feeling more and more groggy as the seconds wore on.

"Can I pass out now?" Tony wheezed, and Guidon nodded.

So he did.

* * *

When he'd woken up, he was in a hospital bed, and couldn't understand a word the doctors were saying. Ben had shown up eventually, and a few days later, now, they were driven to an unknown destination. He didn't even remember getting to Israel, but he clearly had at some point.

"Would you mind telling me what's going on here?" Tony questioned, still slightly queasy. Now he knew that all Mossad operatives drove the same way as Ziva. If he actually had anything in his stomach, he would have already thrown it up.

"Director David requests your presence," Ben told him, and Tony rolled his eyes.

"Okay, I know it may not be your standard operation procedure, but don't you think that it might be a good idea to I don't know…. let NCIS know I'm alive?" he asked conversationally," As much as I think the Davids wish it wasn't so-"

"Dinozzo…Ziva is no longer on our roster. She's joined your side…surprisingly. Director David would like some insight, that is all…"

"I'm not exactly the best person to speak to when it comes to Ziva…"Tony started, and Ben snorted.

"I may not be the authority on this, but being in love with someone…that allows you to know them better than anyone else, yes?" the voice startled Tony, and he glanced over to see the familiar white linen clad form of Director David, leaning against a pillar.

"You kind of remind me of Diniro right now…like he was in a mob movie and then decided to run away to Greece…"Tony commented, and the Director let out a small laugh, his face splitting into a smile.

"Come, Agent Dinozzo. I believe we have much to discuss," he motioned for Tony to follow him, and Tony glanced back at Ben, who pushed him to follow the Director.

He gulped, but reasoned he did owe the guy his life in some form. So he followed him around the corner and into the front door, realizing he was in a home.

"There is a physician up the stairs and to the right. I assume you will not mind staying in Ziva's room?" Tony nodded dumbly.

"Um…Director-"Eli David cut him off.

"I'm very much not in the business of killing those my daughter seems to care about. Though I cannot seem to figure out why she cares about you so much. Your capture caused her resignation from this agency," Eli said, and Tony winced slightly.

"I'm sorry, did you just say that Ziva cares about me?" Tony asked, his voice skeptical," I don't know if your security cameras caught that whole exchange where she almost killed me last summer...."

"It appears so," Eli responded, motioning for Tony to sit down on the couch next to him. Tony hesitated, but caved at the look on his face. Because it was familiar.

"She was hurt. I do not blame her for wanting to leave the agency. She is not the same daughter I raised. I am only concerned with her feelings for you," Eli responded, and Tony sighed.

"You know, you'd really have to ask her…"Tony said, scratching the back of his neck, so nervous he thought he'd spontaneously combust.

"Well, she knows how you feel about her. I was curious to see her reaction,"

"You showed it to her?" Tony wasn't aware his voice could get that high," that was extremely unfair…"he added, somewhat put out, and Eli David shook his head.

"It is very hard for me to believe that you would make her happy," Eli said a second later, and Tony tilted his head to the side.

"Almost as strange as you rescuing me. What was the point exactly?" Tony asked, and Eli shrugged.

"She is my daughter. She emailed me and said I was dead to her…perhaps me getting you back from the grave will change her mind…"

"What do you mean back from the grave?" Tony questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Mr. Dinozzo, are you aware how long Saleem had you in captivity, and how long you have been asleep?" Tony shook his head, slightly wary of what he might here.

"No, I'm a little hazy on the details…"Tony said honestly, trying not to fall over.

"I will brief you when you are stronger…I require your assistance on a project…an then you may return to the United States. To my daughter, if she will still have you.." Tony stared after Eli for a moment before wearily climbing the stairs, intent on getting some rest.

When he woke up in the morning, Eli was sitting at the foot of his bed, a folder in his hands.

"While you are recovering you will study this," he held out the folder, and Tony took it skeptically.

"And when I finish this assignment I get to go home?" he asked, and Eli nodded, his expression weary.

"It is January, Agent Dinozzo…you will be starting the assignment in two weeks," Tony stared at him, flabbergasted, as Eli left the room. January? It was January? It was no wonder NCIS wasn't beating down Mossad's doors. They clearly thought Tony was dead. Which made taking the assignment his only option. Deep cover. Just like playing pretend. He'd gotten good at it in the last couple of years. And if he made it through the last act of this whole fiasco, he could hopefully make it back home. To her.

* * *

"I have your noodles," Abby said softly from McGee's desk. She took them silently, not even offering a thank you to Abby, and walked back over to Tony's desk, where she had taken up residence. She set the small box down, and instead turned back to her American history book, ignoring Abby.

"Ziva you need to eat," Abby said quietly, and Ziva looked over at her with hooded eyes. It was easy to say that the last six months had been difficult on her. With the news of Tony's supposed death, she had almost shut down; pretending things were normal for the sake of just that, pretending.

"I will, Abby. I need to study," she said quietly, glancing back down at the book

"He wouldn't want you to act like you are dead, you know," she slammed her book closed, getting Gibbs and McGee's attentions at least, her expression hard.

"Given that he himself is dead, he does not have a say in the matter!" she said harshly, grabbing her food and storming towards the elevator. Gibbs followed her, pressing the stop button as soon as it closed, staring at her in concern.

"Ziver," she sat down on the floor and acted like it was completely normal for both of them to be in the elevator while she ate lunch.

"I will be fine. These things take time. Obviously Tony was torn up about my supposed death, correct?" she tilted her head to the side to study Gibb's face, which looked older than she ever remembered it being," And I may be upset a little about his. That is all. At times you do not realize that you will miss something until it is taken away," she handed him the box of noodles, and he took a small bite.

"She's right about your eating. If you don't start I'm going to take you off of field duty for good," he said, pressing the box towards her. She scowled at him for a moment before eating the noodles ravenously, as if she was starving but wouldn't admit it to herself.

"See? I am something close to normal," she informed him, raising an eyebrow.

"None of us are normal, David," he slapped her on the back of the head, and she managed a small smile.

"I am sick of cold cases. It is boring," she informed him, crossing her arm.

"Be careful what you wish for," he responded, as they opened the door, Director Vance standing there and waiting for them.

"We really need to get you an actual office," he informed Gibbs,"Ziva, I need your opinion on something," she nodded, following Vance towards his office.

"We've received intelligence that Mariana and Amie Vasquez will be meeting with Waylon Livingston in Paris in a few months to negotiate a new target. If we do this correctly, we'll take down the two assassins, and Livingston, along with his small group of partners…I'm wondering if you think you can handle undercover work?" Ziva swallowed. He had no idea.

"Director, I am still on desk duty…"she trailed, off, slightly uncomfortable.

"I know things have been difficult for you, but I also know that you know the area well, and are aware of Livingston and his network…I would be sending Agent Sanders there with you, and you'd be radio silent for the majority of the mission," Ziva glanced past Vance at the window, her thoughts somewhere else. She needed to prove herself. She was on thin ice.

"If you believe me to be capable then I'm sure I can handle it," Ziva said finally, her gaze moving back to rest on the director's face. He was tired.

"I'm going to do something for you, Ziva…I know what happened in Somalia, and afterwards with Agent Dinozzo, was difficult for you. I can't talk to your father about it, because since you left Mossad he has refused to take my calls. But what I can do, is use some of our contacts to see if they have heard of anything," Ziva's eyes widened for a moment.

"Thank you," she managed softly, getting up once he had handed her a folder.

"This is deep cover. There isn't room for mistakes," she sighed, gripping the folder tightly and walking back towards Tony's desk, sinking into his chair and placing the folder in her bag, zipping it shut before McGee could ask questions. She would look at it later.

* * *

The party was massive. Ziva once again found herself wondering why she had agreed to this in the first place, being so out in the open with so many people, it scared her a little these days. Although she'd be the last person to admit it, any assignment, whether it frightened her or not, was better than camping out at Tony's desk doing cold case paperwork all day, trying to catch the lingering scent of his in the air. She had been sworn in as a citizen and an agent only twelve hours ago, and here she was, already on a mission she wasn't sure she could handle.

"Agent David?" her head snapped up to rest on the young woman that had been tasked to be her backup and partner on this mission. She was young, bright eyed and delusional that this job did not involve the hardships that would eventually ruin her life. Probies were so naive. Having a probie with her was a test as well, she reasoned.

"It's Mariana, Amie," she reminded the agent, who rolled her eyes.

"We're not even inside yet,"

"And you do not know who is watching us, yes?" Ziva pointed out, her gaze scanning the room for signs of the man they were to meet, as well as any signs of Mossad.

"I guess you are right," the woman responded, linking her arm through Ziva's as they were both offered champagne. Both of them had a flute in their hands, and all eyes were on their gowns as they walked through the large ballroom, Ziva's false confidence carrying them forward without many questions.

It was easy to act like they belonged, but Ziva was always more concerned about actually belonging. It had been something she was struggling with, especially lately. Where was her home? It was almost easier to be someone else, to take on the traits and characteristics of a Spanish woman named Mariana Vasquez, who was known for taking out high ranking government officials for the right price, and bedding her fare share of men. Easier to pretend that Agent Stewart, who was clinging at her arm a little too tightly, was her French adopted sister, Amie, who was very good with torture and getting information.

It was an hour into the party when she felt it, her eyes narrowing slightly as she whirled around at the tap on a shoulder.

"Mr. Livingston requires your audience," the voice was soft, but direct, and Ziva set her champagne down, Agent Stewart following her diligently as they tailed the man leading them to a large set of oak doors.

Mr. Livingston was a handsome man, some intricate cross between Gerard Butler and George Clooney, his skin tan and few imperfections marring his face. He was sitting beside a desk, and tall man with sandy blonde hair was standing by the window.

"Ah…Miss Vasquez…I trust your evening has been enjoyable thus far?" Ziva managed a curt nod.

"But I am not here because you need me to enjoy my evening, yes?" she said, injecting her accent with a sultry Spanish flair," My sister, Amie," she introduced her, and Agent Stewart simply raised an eyebrow. She was catching on to the attitude that was required for this.

"Straight to the point…Andrew…"the man turned, and when her eyes caught sight of him it took everything in her not to break her façade. It wasn't…possible," The ladies will need an escort for this evening, yes? Andrew will brief you on the target Wednesday evening. He is not due to arrive in Paris for a week. He will be your guide as you settle in, and get you anything you require…"

For his part, Ziva reasoned, he was staying silent. His eyes were the only part that betrayed his outer confidence, staring at Ziva almost in alarm. The emotion was almost coming off of him in waves, and Ziva fought to keep her breath steady.

"Andrew, go enjoy the party with the girls. You've been working too hard, you know…" he turned, all business, and shot Mr. Livingston a look.

"Isn't that why you keep me around?" his voice was steady; even though she was sure his thoughts were anything but that. He looked cocky, almost, clad in a familiar designer suit, his hair up and spiky instead of gelled back.

"Ladies, he will join you momentarily…Henry, escort them back to the party," the man that had brought them in opened the door for them, and Ziva followed him dazedly back to the ballroom.

"Mariana is quite beautiful, is she not?" Mr. Livingston asked, and Tony made a small noise in the back of his throat to confirm," You need to have some fun, Andrew. Unwind…not everything is business, sometimes we find room for pleasure…" he prodded, and Tony sighed.

"I will see you at breakfast, Waylon," Tony said quickly, walking to get out of the room. He didn't recognize the woman with her. She must have been after his time.

It was almost twisted that they were in a situation like this for their reunion. Forced to play the parts laid out for them by their respective agencies. Tony had been undercover for three months. And this had been a shock, almost causing him to throw caution to the winds and just grab Ziva and go. But that wasn't how the deal worked. So he thought quickly, trying to figure out a way to rectify the situation until he could get her in private. She was stunned by his presence, he was sure. He hadn't planned on her finding out he was working for Mossad this way, or maybe at all. He was pretty certain that unless she'd been able to contact someone in Mossad, she was still sure he was dead.

"Ladies," he brought them both a flute of champagne, as Ziva stared up at him, trying to see past the façade he had up. She reached for the glass, and their hands brushed lightly, sending a shiver through Tony's spine. She was skinnier. Her skin lacked the customary glow he was used to seeing, and her eyes were duller than he remembered. She was broken. Because of him. He was still blaming himself for Somalia. And doing this to keep her safe, and insure that he might get to see her again had not even been a question.

"Andrew, can you point me in the direction of the ladies room?" he pointed off into the far corner of the room, and Agent Stewart left them, standing awkwardly close to each other due to the amount of people in the room, staring at each other almost hungrily in the soft light. Ziva was quick to down her entire glass of champagne, her eyes not straying from Tony's. Her hands started shaking, and she jumped when he grabbed them, realizing they were both here playing a character, and the acting at this point was crucial. He shot her a look, which said they could talk about it later. For now they had to pretend. For two people that had been so good at it before, she was finding it hard to retain her composure.

"Lets dance," his breath was warm against her ear, and she fought the urge to shiver, instead letting his hand rest on the small of her back as he led her to the dance floor, the heat from his fingers almost scalding against her skin.

He pulled her close suddenly; her head nestled on his shoulder due to the heels she was wearing, his hands lightly holding her steady against his hard chest. She took a small breath, fighting to stay upright, turning her face so it rested against his chest, her nose brushing his Adam's apple slightly.

"How long have you been working for Mr. Livingston?" she fought to keep her voice steady, and Tony understood. It was all a part of the game. Giving each other the answers they needed, but still keeping up appearances.

"Three months…prior to that I had sustained a rather…extensive injury that caused me to be unable to work," Tony chose his words carefully, her breath puffing against his neck, her scent almost swallowing him in its familiarity," And what made you chose to become a contract assassin…it does not look as if you are the type for that sort of thing," his voice was smooth as they slowly moved to the song the orchestra was playing, molded perfectly against each other.

"Losing someone you love can make people do crazy things," Ziva responded, her voice muffled against his chest" I had prior experience…I once killed someone using only a toothpick," she hoped he got her meaning. He squeezed her waist softly, pressing her further against him.

"And your sister…"

"Is rather new to this, whereas I am not," she breathed, tilting her head back to stare up at him.

"Would you like to go for a walk?" he asked quietly, his hand slipping around her waist as they separated briefly, and Ziva nodded, fighting the urge to fling herself at him and cry. That would not go over well. She was sure of that. So she forced herself to keep up appearances.

"I would…the gardens here looked…extensive. And I am sure Amie can handle herself," she said, her stomach bubbling with nerves and dread.

He led her carefully out the door and around the corner, both of them walking silently down a garden path for what seemed like hours until she was sure they were alone.

The entire time, she was hoping this was some sort of twisted nightmare, and not reality. What was he doing here? When she finally turned to face him, the only light from the small twinkly lights that were lining the shrubbery, her face was red, her eyes filled with tears, her mind filled with questions.

He opened his mouth to say something, and instead chose to reach up and brush the stray tear from her cheek.

"It is easier to talk out here, without all the noise…but I am never alone…"he said, trying to make her understand that they couldn't do this now," Why are you crying?" he added a second later, and she shook her head.

"You remind me of someone I lost…that is all," Ziva said softly, her eyes searching his. This was heart wrenching, "Someone I loved very much, but never got to tell."

"Maybe he knew," Tony ventured," Even though you couldn't tell him," his voice was thick, and he was surprised when she leant towards him.

"Perhaps," her breath tickled his lips, and then they were kissing, Tony's hands coming up to fist in her hair as hers skimmed his back, pushing him against her. They turned, walking backwards slightly until they hit a wall, Tony holding Ziva up slightly as they brushed their lips together again and again, each time lingering longer and longer, until her tongue came up to part the seam of his lips, a low moan escaping his throat at her actions.

Shortly afterwards, his lips moved down the column of her throat, kissing the hollow of her neck and then the area where her cleavage met the silk of her dress. She squeaked slightly, holding his head to her, her hands massaging his scalp as he pushed a leg in between hers, his hands wandering around her torso, squeezing gently every so often.

It wasn't enough. Ziva writhed against him, her hands reaching for the button fly of his pants, their eyes locking in the darkness. There was only a moment of hesitation. After wondering what it would be like for so long, she couldn't even begin to rationalize not doing this, as Tony's hands pulled the tube top of her dress down, his mouth attaching to her nipple as her hand slipped into his boxers, grabbing his length in her hand. He groaned softly as she started to rub him, her strokes quick.

She felt him abandon her breasts, and lift the flowy bottom of her dress; one hand holding it up while the other ventured towards where she'd wanted him to touch her most.

She squeaked softly when he ripped her underwear off completely, his fingers exploring her moistening folds with a steady purpose, her head falling back against the wall and her eyes sliding shut as she continued to touch him as well. He pressed his length through the buttonhole of his pants, his eyes coming up to rest on hers. Her hands grabbed the hem of her dress, which was still bunched in his hands, and sighed softly when he lifted her up, her legs wrapping around his waist, their noses touching as he rubbed the tip of him against her.

When he sank into her, she let out a shuddering gasp, burrowing her face in the clean cotton of his shirt, her hands grasping his shoulders tightly.

"Oh…my god," he moaned softly, amazed by the feel of her. He shifted his hips slightly, and she bit back a cry, lifting her head to stare at him, her eyes dark.

Her hands came up to palm his cheeks, pulling him towards her as he started to move, her hips moving against him, meeting his thrusts with ones of her own, their bodies pressed tightly together as they devoured each other's mouths.

They broke for breath, Ziva crying out softly when he thrust deeper than before, staring at him dazedly.

"Please," she whispered, and he picked up the pace, showering her collarbone and neck with kisses as he pressed her against the wall with every thrust, her hands reaching around to cup his butt, pulling him closer.

"Oh god..."he moaned, trying to hold back for her, clenching his teeth as she nibbled at his neck. He sucked on his fingers for a moment, bringing them down to touch her, and she shattered around him, screaming against his chest as he lost control, banging her against the wall over and over until his release filled her.

Her eye makeup was everywhere, tears staining her cheeks, her lips flushed and swollen from the attention he'd given them. Her hair had tumbled down around her shoulders, coming free of its clip when they'd first kissed earlier, and her breasts were bared to him, still slightly wet, the tips of her nipples shiny and pebbled, hard in the cool night air. He reached a hand up to touch her hair, fingering a stray curl in his hands, and she leant against him, their bodies still connected, resting her weight against him.

"We should get some sleep," he whispered against her hair, and she nodded, sighing softly as he slipped from her depths, placing her on the ground, her dress pooling back at her feet as she pulled the top up, covering her breasts once more. He tucked himself back into his pants, and ran a hand through his hair, staring down at her in amazement.

_So? Um…yeah. I have some more written, but like I said before…moving cross country. _

_-Jena_


	6. Tell me something I dont know

Play Your Part

Tell Me Something I don't know

Jena Rink

March 2010

OH MY GOD. The reviews I got were astounding. Needless to say it is midterms week and I should not be posting this…but I still am…Im totally amazed by the response this has gotten, especially in the last chapter! WOW! Lol.

Her mouth felt like it usually did after a long night of drinking. She mused for a moment that she could possibly be hung-over on the presence that was Tony Dinozzo, although muted in their current surroundings. The way he'd just touched her, made her mouth go dry once again as she fought to steady herself, one hand pressed against the wall to hold herself upright. The coldness of the stone behind her was her anchor to reality. That she'd just slept with Tony. Nevermind that they were playing other people, she'd slept with him, without any thought as to the consequences, or to the implications of their actions. He didn't seem to mind, his finger running small circles on her shoulder, tracing the top of her collar bone towards her neck, causing her to lose touch with reality once more. She had to focus. He must have realized her thoughts, because his voice broke her out of her stupor.

"Are you under surveillance?" he whispered, and she shook her head, still dazed from the orgasm he'd brought her too, her legs slightly shaky. She stared up at him in wonder, stumbling slightly when she tried to move. He flashed her a knowing smile, and she rolled her eyes. A semblance of normalcy in all of this confusion, banter without speaking, a roll of the eyes and a knowing smile…He slipped a hand around her waist, and they walked back to what she assumed was a side entrance, his fingers skimming across her lower back, creating trails of heat across her spine. It was so familiar, just being close to him, that for a moment she forgot the precarious situation they'd landed themselves in, as only they could. She figured she should respond at some point, and opened her mouth for a moment, closing it at Tony's confused look. She swallowed thickly before speaking.

"If I were….I am sure something would have already-"she motioned to their various states of dishevelment, and Tony raised an eyebrow. She was focused on his shoulder. She didn't remember biting him. She must have. That would make things rather obvious. She was fixated on the small mark, and didn't notice him staring at her strangely.

"Michael will take…Amie to your rooms," he said, and Ziva stood in front of him as they waited for an elevator. His hands wrapped around her waist, unable to get enough of just being close to her again. He squeezed her slightly, pulling her against him, and she realized that this was his form of blending business with pleasure. It would be easy to pretend that they'd known each other from before, that the feelings and possessiveness that were a constant in their former relationship was also apart of this fictional one.

"Thank you," she said softly, entering the elevator, Tony following, letting go of her waist to allow her free movement. The party must be winding down, because it wasn't as loud as Tony led her across a large hall and through another hallway, opening a small set of double doors to reveal a large bedroom, a four poster bed, a large plasma television, and a balcony.

"Is this-"

"These are my rooms. There's a bathroom through there…"he motioned carelessly to the right, and for the first time Ziva noticed how tired he seemed. Nevermind that he was alive. That was a shock in and of itself, but he looked exhausted. He ran a hand through his hair, and stared at her reflection in the mirror, his eyes clearly trying to say something to her. She could barely function as it was, let alone dismantle the complicated signals he was attempting to send to her. She wasn't prepared for this. Undercover work, yes. Sleeping with the enemy, yes. Realizing the enemy was Tony? No. Not in the slightest. Realizing he wasn't dead was not really on her list as well. Who was he working for? Why was he doing this? Had she been caught up in the lies and deception that had plagued NCIS again, albeit years later? Did Vance know? Was that what he had meant?

She turned away from his eyes quickly, striding into the bathroom and closing the door, turning on the shower and stripping out of her dress, her reflection staring back at her in the mirror. Who was she anymore? She looked like a raccoon, her makeup, which had been applied perfectly hours before, smudged all over her face, her lips swollen and probably bruised. Her eyes were dark, and she realized her body was shaking slighty. She wasn't sure if it was the cold, or something else entirely.

She stepped under the spray, suddenly unable to hold her legs upright, sliding down the tiled wall of the shower and staring blankly ahead of her. Every memory was flashes. Tony's face as he glanced up at her, Michael on the floor. Tony as he screamed at her, her foot against his chest, her gun pointing at his face. Her upper lip trembled. Tony, being dragged away from her, her eyes almost catatonic, sarcastically biting out a farewell. Tony, admitting he loved her on the tape, his eyes wide and desperate and afraid? The tears started before she could stop them, her arms coming forward to wrap around her knees as she laid her head against her legs, shuddering with the effort to keep quiet.

The hand on her shoulder startled her, and her head snapped up, her wet eyes meeting his hesitantly. She shook her head, and backed slightly away from him into the corner of the shower. She had caused this. All of this was her fault.

"I'm okay," he whispered, knowing what she was thinking, and she gnawed at her lip, wishing desperately she could tell him what it was like to think he wasn't okay for so long, that he'd never come back. That she'd killed him. She couldn't stop the tears that came to the surface again, reaching up to wipe them off her eyes, even as the hot water from the shower poured down on her.

He pulled a pen from behind him, confusing her, and clicked it, setting it on the top of the toilet.

"We have four minutes," he said softly, kneeling down next to her, reaching out a hand to touch her bare shoulder. She flinched, and his gaze softened. It was clear this was difficult for him again. It seemed like he thought that before tonight and their meeting, that he'd never see her again. And that worried her, but she was just so angry. She didn't have an outlet for her aggression, so as usual, he became it.

She fought the urge to punch him in the stomach, glaring at him through hooded eyes.

"I thought, you were dead, and I thought…I was the reason!" she hissed through clenched teeth.

"To be fair, I thought I killed you first," he whispered, getting into the shower next to her, Ziva realizing he was almost naked for the first time, her eyes straying from his chest to stare up at his eyes.

"We don't have a lot of time," he murmured, staring blankly ahead of him,"Your father and Ben Guidon got me out before the building blew…they were under the impression that if you knew I was alive and that they were the reason that you might begin to trust them again. Your father told me that I after I accomplished this mission, I could go back to you…if you'd still have me," he turned to stare at her, huddled in the corner of the shower, her head resting on her knee now, turned to stare at him,"I was unconscious for about three months…and from what I was able to tell, you'd all stopped looking…I didn't have a choice," the words seemed different, but the meaning was the same.

Ziva couldn't find the words to respond at first. She struggled to find a way to come to grips with the fact that Tony was now under her father's control. In the end stating the obvious won.

"I have finally removed myself from his control, and now you have been subjected to it?" she uttered finally, closing her eyes tightly,"This is all my fault," she realized, her stomach feeling like she'd just dropped an anvil on it, all the air being suddenly sucked from her lungs.

"No it isn't," he whispered, running his finger across her cheekbone. She didn't flinch this time.

"What's the plan?" she breathed.

"It really depends on the next week…he's meeting a contact…Mossad is scheduling to eliminate both of them…but I had no idea that you were the contact…"he ran a hand over his eyes.

"We just have to get through this week…there are ways around me being shot," Ziva responded matter of factly, decided that planning this out was her best distraction.

"I think we're good enough at pretending by now, don't you?" Tony shot back, and she winced.

"I suppose we are…so the question is can we play our parts until this is over?" she asked, her eyes meeting his.

"I've been doing it for months now…a few more days shouldn't matter. He'll expect me to be possessive with you..Apparently other people can notice what we cant…because he told me I should sleep with you," Tony's voice was laced with disgust, and Ziva flinched. It was clear that he loathed the situation he'd been thrown into. He was different. Tainted. He'd become like her. And that hurt her more than she'd ever be able to tell him.

"I never wanted you to be haunted like this…to live this life," Ziva mumbled, motioning around her, and Tony stared at her, the coldness in his eyes chilling her.

Didn't she understand why he was doing this? All of it, was for her. And now she was in danger of being killed by her own father, all because Tony was stupid enough to take some mission in the hopes it would keep her safe.

"I would do anything for you," he said honestly, as the small device beeped, signaling the end of their ability to have a decent conversation.

"We have breakfast with Waylon in the morning…we need to sleep," he informed her, the Tony she knew gone, this shadow of him replacing her memories.

Getting ready for bed was easy. Her things, surprisingly, had been brought to his rooms. She eventually settled herself on her side on the bed, her head resting on his chest and her bare leg draped over his. He pulled up the comforter to cover them, but didn't make any effort to hold her close, staring blankly at the ceiling as she nestled against him. She glanced up at him for a moment, and leant up, pecking his lips softly.

"Please do not push me away…not now," she mumbled, her breath soft, and resumed her place at his side. Ziva felt his hands running through her hair gently, and she found herself falling to sleep easily, lulled by the feeling of his heartbeat against her chest.

She didn't recognize anything about her surroundings. The only thing she did recognize was Tony's breath against her neck, his arms holding her possessively against him. They'd shifted while sleeping, and Tony was draped over her, his hand across her stomach and his other hand tangled in her hair, his nose pressed into the hollow of her throat and his legs intertwined with hers. She hadn't slept through the night without screaming since Somalia. She didn't even feel like yawning. She was finally on the road to being rested, and that scared her. What if he couldn't get through this? What would happen then?

"Good morning," she whispered quietly, and his eyes popped open, staring at her for a moment before kissing the top of her head.

"Good morning," he replied, his voice heavy from sleep, his hair sticking up in all directions. She couldn't help but want to kiss him, turning to face him and brushing her lips with his softly. He deepened it, pulling her to rest on top of him, her legs straddling his for long moments as they kissed, the sun just peeking through the curtains.

"Shower?" he asked thickly, and she nodded, getting to her feet and following Tony towards the bathroom, stepping under the spray after him and leaning against the wall, letting the steam clear her foggy thoughts. His hands on her shoulders surprised her, and she opened her eyes to stare at him, taking in his water drenched form.

"Commere," he breathed, trailing a hand down her arm to pull her towards him, kissing her again, gently, his hands running up and down her sides. She suddenly thought of the scars criss crossing her back, and glanced up at him, refusing to turn around when he moved to turn her away from him. He leant closer to her, his lips brushing her ear.

"You're gorgeous,"he whispered into her hair, his fingers skimming the raised lines on her back as she reached up to touch a scar on his lower stomach,"I don't care about any of your scars,"he added softly, nuzzling his face into her wet hair before kissing her forehead and turning to rinse off.

He may have not cared about hers, but it was hard for her to not notice his. They were much worse, covering almost all of his back and his lower leg, small marks and large ones that only succeeded in making her feel as though all of this was her fault.

"You want the soa-what…"he noticed the tears in her eyes, and frowned.

"You have to hold it together, okay?"he whispered, pulling her close to him and rubbing her back again. She swallowed thickly, and forced herself to not notice.

"Okay. I am going to tell him that I met you while I was in weapons training in Italy…in 2003…alright?"she managed, glancing up at him.

"That's perfect,"he assured her, kissing her forhead,"I'll see you out there…"she nodded, watching him leave the shower before going through the motions, absentmidedly getting ready as quicly as possible.

An hour later they were walking down to breakfast. She was in a dark blue sundress and flats, her hair straightened and hanging loose, and Tony was in a polo and khakis, his arm wrapped possessively around her waist, pulling her close to him at all times.

They entered the dining room to see Amie and Michael eating breakfast with Mr. Livingston, who was eyeing the pair with interest. Tony's arm tightened its hold on her waist, and she shot him a look, her eyes teasing.

"Good morning," she offered simply, taking a seat next to Tony and helping herself to a scone, her free hand connected to Tony's, their fingers interlaced.

"Mariana, you have met Andrew before?" Mr. Livingston questioned, and Tony stared at her in interest. This was her moment of the show, apparently.

"When I was in weapons training in Italy, Drew supplied the ammunition…he was memorable…"she let her lips linger on the last word, as Tony's hand skimmed her thigh.

"I see. Well that will make things easier…tell me, Mariana, have you and Amie ever been to Paris this time of year?" he was so pleasant for an arms dealer.

"No, this is our first time visiting in the spring. It seems quite lovely…perhaps Drew could show us the sites?" Ziva ventured, grabbing his orange juice and taking a sip, meeting his glare with a raised eyebrow.

"I've never seen a woman that knew so much about Andrew," Mr. Livingston said, and Ziva smirked.

"Drew knows what he likes…he is quite…particular," Ziva teased,"Many girls do not get close enough to realize that."

"Well, you may take Michael with you as well and go and see the sites…Andrew knows a lot about Paris…"Mr. Livingston said, as Ziva finished her scone, Amie staring at her astonishment.

"You have some jam on your lip," Tony told her, and her eyes met his, a teasing lilt in them.

"Perhaps you could get it off for me," Ziva shot back,"As you can see I am lacking a mir-"his lips cut off her words, sucking at her upper lip gently.

"How did you know raspberry is my favorite flavor?" he teased, his hand slipping back around her waist as they walked towards the door. Her waist and back warmed from his touch, and she leant into him unconsciously. This was easier.

"Amie, did you have a nice time last night?" Tony asked her, and she nodded.

"We do not get to dress up like that often," she informed him," I rather liked that aspect of it," she added, looking very nervous as Michael came up beside her.

"Where to first?" Tony asked Ziva, glancing down at her," Monet's gardens are very beautiful this time of year, or so I'm told."

* * *

She put the camera away quickly, and glanced up at him expectantly. It was a good moment to disappear. Amie and Michael had run off once they had gotten ice cream. Playing the normal game was something both of them were very accustomed to.

"Lets go sit," she informed him, gesturing to the trees that had flowers creating a curtain around the trunks. They ducked underneath the curtain of flowers and leaves, and Tony sat down against the trunk of the tree,motioning for Ziva to sit in front of him.

He pulled out his cellphone, and opened it, grabbing a small device from inside compartment and placing it next to him on the ground.

"Five minutes," he told her quietly, his fingertips skimming her arms gently.

She turned her head to face him, unable to find the words to express her feelings.

"Tony,"she whispered quietly, he fingers tracing his jawline," I am so sorry that it has to be like this…"he shook his head.

"Isn't it better that we get to be with each other, Zee?" he responded, and she sighed, her eyes growing wet again.

"But it isn't real,"she pressed softly, her eyes scanning his.

"Being with you, no matter what name you're going by that week, will always be real to me…and I'm sorry that we have to hide…and that we can't be ourselves and that we had sex against the wall of a garden instead of after a few dates and in my apartment…but things…not everything has a happy ending, or middle, or even beginning…we have to make the best of it…"Tony said softly, brushing a lock of hair off of her face.

"And after?" Ziva ventured softly, her eyes searching his.

"We'll face it when it comes…I just want you when all of this is over. And I don't give a damn about other's expectations, or Gibbs' rules, or Vance, or anyone. I have always wanted you, and I'm sick of letting things get in the way of that," he responded. His eyes widened when she kissed him, turning to straddle his waist, pulling him against her. They broke for breath minutes later, both panting, and Ziva opened her mouth, intent on throwing her fears to the wind and just being honest for once.

"Tony I-"the device beeped. She glanced down for a moment, and blinked back tears. His hand reached to wipe them off her face again, and she leant against his hand, her eyes shut tight.

"They'll be waiting for us," he told her, and she nodded, getting to her feet and leaning against him, letting him steer her towards the exit, her tears hidden behind her sunglasses.

They got in the waiting limo, and she fell asleep against Tony's side, his fingers combing through her hair as she snored softly, bringing a small smile to his face.

When they got back to the house, Ziva was still out. Tony carried her upstairs and put her in bed, tucking the covers around her before sitting down with his laptop, typing his brief and working on the target dossier for Wednesday.

The knock at the door surprised him. He got up to answer it,and was met with Amie.

"I have not seen my sister at all this entire trip. You have stolen her," Amie said, and Tony stuffed his hands in his pockets, inclining his head slightly towards the bed, where Ziva was still snoring,"And how do you even know her in the first place?" she added, as Ziva opened her eyes tiredly.

"Drew?" she questioned, her voice tired, and Tony shot Amie a look.

"I'm over here, sweetcheeks," he said.

"You carried me upstairs? I am not an invalid…"

"Even ninja assasins need their rest, Marieeeeee," he teased, as Ziva noticed Amie in the door for the first time.

"Hi," Ziva breathed, crossing her arms, realizing Tony had put her in a pair of her pajama bottoms and a cami,"I am sorry you've never met Drew before. But he is to be trusted…do not worry," Ziva tried to convey that he was one of them, one of the good guys, and she was pretty sure that she had gotten the message, because her eyes widened in realization momentarily.

"Oh,"she said simply,"Well then I suppose I'll see you two at dinner?" Tony nodded as Ziva walked up, leaning against his side as his arm wrapped around her shoulders.

"You okay?" he ventured, surprised when she grabbed his hand, tugging on it softly in the direction of the bed after reaching a hand out to turn the key in his lock. When they were at the foot of the bed, her eyes met his hesitantly.

It was easy to kiss her. For all the times Tony had agonized over what would happen if their lips touched, it was so easy. She stood on her tip toes, Tony holding her above the ground slightly as Ziva sucked on his lower lip gently, her arms draped around his neck. She tilted her head to the side as the kiss intensified, Tony lifting her up and setting her on the bed, pushing her backwards as he crawled over her, continuing to kiss her passionately, his hands skimming her sides.

"Can you just hold me?" she whispered softly between kisses, and he pulled her against him gently, her head tucked into the crook of his shoulder.

She draped himself over him, and kissed the underside of his jaw gently.

"This could be a good thing…"she breathed against his neck. She wasn't sure he'd feel the same. But there had to be a way to make the best out of this situation.

"How?" he asked softly, and she glanced up at him, her nose brushing his gently as she resettled.

"We could get to know each other better…the real us…"she said finally, propped up by her hands, her hair covering their faces from view.

"Bachelorette Number One, what's your idea of a dream vacation?" Tony asked in his game show voice, and Ziva glared at him for a moment.

"Somewhere where we do not have to pretend," she said, her eyes locking with his,"Somewhere where we are not just players in some giant game that we have no control over…"she finished, and Tony sighed.

"Tell me something I don't know," she said a moment later, and he frowned for a moment.

"My mother bought me that Mustang I used to drive for my twelfth birthday," he whispered softly, her legs straddling his as he spoke.

"When I drink too much, I mix my languages," she murmured back, and he grinned up at her. She'd missed his smile.

"After we played those assassins…for the Marine Corp Ball…I wanted you to take me home," he responded.

"When I was framed for that bombing…I wanted you to save me," Ziva admitted quietly, leaning down to brush her lips against hers gently, closing her eyes.

"I wish I could save you right now," he mumbled against her lips, and she opened her eyes to stare down at him again.

"You are saving me," she said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, before settling her head against his shoulder again.

"It doesn't feel that way sometimes," he told her, kissing her forehead.

"Nap?" she mumbled against his shoulder, her eyes dropping closed.

"Nap," he confirmed, wrapping his arms tightly around her as she basically draped herself over him like a rag doll, looking tiny to him as she started to snore.

His last thought before he went to sleep was that he could very well get used to this. If only all of it was real.

So? Sorry about the delay!! Eek.


End file.
